


A Warm Southern Welcome

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe goes to visit Eugene after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Southern Welcome

Louisiana gets hotter and more humid the further South Joe goes. He’s in a Studebaker, and even after a thousand miles, it feels odd to drive with his left foot. He can’t say for certain when he hits Bayou country—it all feels like a wet paper towel against his face at that point—but he’s certain when he gets into Doc Roe’s town. There’s a hand-painted sign with a population count that makes Joe laugh. His high school class was the same size as the number of people living here.

He passes a church, a bank, another church, a grocery store, and a bar before he stops at a gas station. He doesn’t actually have Roe’s address, just the name of the town and some semi-vague directions from Babe. The gas station attendant doesn’t look twice at Joe’s leg, but he tilts his head at Joe’s accent when he says, “I’m looking for Eugene Roe.”

“And you are?”

“A friend from the Army.”

The gas station attendant looks at Joe’s leg this time. “End of the road, take the first left. You’re gonna pass a barn that’s half collapsed. Take the one-lane road just after it. End of that road, take another right, and the Roe place is at the end just before the swamp.”

“Thanks,” Joe says. He gets in the car and follows the directions, driving slowly once he turns at the barn. Everything’s overgrown, and the road is bumpy and narrow. He turns right at the end of the road, and the road gets even smaller, more a lane than anything. There’s grass growing between the ruts in the road. At the end of the road, there’s a large wooden house, and on its porch, like he knew Joe was coming, is Eugene Roe.

Joe gets out of the car and leans against it. Eugene comes down the front steps and out to the driveway, watching Joe with the same intensity Joe remembers from the war. “Doc,” he says.

“Not anymore,” Roe says. “Not for a while.” Roe looks down at Joe’s leg. “You all right?”

“Fine,” Joe says. 

“Come up to the house,” Eugene says. “I was about to have lunch.”

Joe follows him into the house. It’s cool inside, ceiling fans moving the air around. Eugene leads him to a large, open kitchen and gestures for him to sit. Joe does so. “How you been?” Joe asks.

“Good as I can be,” Eugene replies. He makes sandwiches and pulls a pitcher of tea from the fridge. He sits down next to Joe and puts a sandwich in front of him. “Why you down here?”

Joe takes a bite of his sandwich and shrugs. “Felt like I should be.”

Eugene gives him another intense look like he’s diagnosing Joe down to his marrow. “Felt like you should be?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t recall inviting you.”

“You didn’t ever write me, either,” Joe replies.

Eugene looks away from him. “Didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“I wrote you,” Joe says. “More than once. You can’t take a hint?”

“Can’t you?” Eugene asks. He thumps his fist on the table and stands up, his chair clattering behind him. “I didn’t invite you here, Toye.”

“You don’t want me here, kick me out,” Joe says as he stands. He lifts his chin when Eugene turns to glare at him. Eugene breathes in hard through his nose, and Joe watches his neck tense like it used to on the line. “You want me here?” he asks.

“Toye—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Eugene.”

“Goddamnit,” Eugene says. “Goddamnit and goddamn you.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen. Joe follows. “I didn’t invite you,” he tells Joe again.

“Why not?” Joe asks. “You said you would, back on the line.”

“I said a lot of shit on the line.” Eugene clenches his hands at his sides. “Most of it was lies.”

“Easy,” Joe says, stepping forward and covering Eugene’s hands with his own. “Easy,” he says again, and Eugene sighs deeply, but his hands unclench enough that Joe can uncurl them the rest of the way. 

“I didn’t invite you,” Eugene repeats.

“Yeah, I know,” Joe says. He steps in close and pulls Eugene towards him by his hands. “And you were never gonna because you think my leg’s on you, but it’s not.” He chuckles. “Hell, it’s not even on me.”

“That’s not funny, Joe. That’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s not your fault I got blown to hell, Eugene. It was the fucking Germans, all right? I never blamed you. You’re the reason I’m standing here now.”

“Joe—”

“Unless the next words out of your mouth are inviting me to stay the night, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Eugene shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I—” He opens his eyes and looks at Joe. Joe watches him, stays crowded in close like he used to crowd Eugene in his foxhole and sneak a kiss. “If you’re gonna stay the night, you might as well kiss me hello,” Eugene finally says.

Joe chuckles and touches Eugene’s neck. “Well, if that’s the price of admission, I’m fine with it.”

It’s not like the few kisses in Bastogne. They’re warm, and they’re standing, and when they pull away from one another, it’s quiet and still around them in a way that promises nothing but comfort. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Joe asks.

Eugene rolls his eyes. “I can still kick you out.”

“I’ll go if you want me to,” Joe says.

Eugene reaches out and curls his hands around Joe’s elbows and steps closer. Joe leans into him a little, trusting he’ll stay solid. “No,” he replies. “No, I don’t want that at all.”

Joe beams. “Well, we’ll get by just fine, then.”

Eugene chuckles, and Joe pull him into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> For a lovely anon on tumblr. I loved finding out how much I loved this idea. Thanks to the_wordbutler for the (as ever) excellent beta.


End file.
